I Greet the God Within You
by TanteLiz
Summary: Iroh can see Spirits and there's at least one who'd like a private word with him, now that he's alone... Don't you think Iroh deserves a LEMON of his own? Mature Content!
1. Iroh Alone

**I Greet The God Within You**

**Ch 1**

Iroh turned away from the last sight of his nephew's departure, that last backward glance as the stolen ostrich horse carried him off into the darkening woods. He understood his nephew's reaction – no one wants their hopes taken away. Still, he grieved to find himself alone.

That evening beside a lonely fire, Iroh considered his future. He was feeling very old and very far from home, the years lying heavily on him as he watched the flames. The very despair he had warned Zuko about stalked the darker corners of his mind.

_Once I was a Prince, and now I am not,_ he mused_. Once I was a General, a conqueror, a leader of men – the Dragon of the West! And now, I am not. Once I was a husband – well, maybe not a very good one; and I was a father – O my sweet Lu Ten! – and I was a brother and a brother-in-law and an Uncle. Now, I have no one. Now, I _am_ no one. _

He toyed with the flames, letting them roll closer and fall back, then closer again, undulating like waves. _I have failed everyone I ever loved, everyone who ever depended on me. And in a hundred years no one will remember that Lady Ila's little boy was ever anything to anyone. _

He remembered the easy years, the victories, the camaraderie of his men. He remembered a time when he could block out the screaming, the wailing, the smells of burned flesh and blood spilled. And he remembered 600 long, long days against the walls of Ba-Song-Se.

_How easy it would be,_ he thought,_ if the story ended here – 'And as for old Prince Iroh,' the storytellers will say, 'He was never heard from again…'. _He drew the fire closer, breathed with it, felt his skin begin to redden.

He shook himself, as if he'd walked into an invisible wall. _What am I thinking!_ He slammed his hands to the earth, extinguishing the flames that had begun to crawl like ants up his wrists.

_I need to take a little of my own advice,_ he reflected.

A fresh pot of tea later, he had made up his mind. He would follow Zuko, but at a distance. Who could tell when the boy would need him again? It would be slow going without a mount, and him not as young as he used to be – _but not as old as my nephew seems to think,_ he chuckled. _I will find a way. _

In his meditations that night he sought the spirit world; the souls of his beloved dead, and those spirits that had helped and guided him along his way. _Watch over Zuko_, he asked. _Keep him safe, and let me find him when he needs me. Oh, and – thanks. _

In the morning, he packed up what little food remained along with a few of the less fragile, more useful items that Zuko had stolen for his comfort, and buried the rest. The air was dry, and a warm breeze blew. Iroh breathed deeply and stretched, slinging the pack on his back, and began strolling in the general direction of his nephew's departure.

He stopped late morning by a streambed, and noted the footprints of Zuko's mount beside the remains of a campfire. _He didn't go far last night, he_ mused. The footprints followed the waterside down hill into a rocky valley, where the trickling stream joined a larger flow until it fell, cascading over the rocks, to a narrow river below.

Iroh could no longer make out Zuko's tracks in the rocky ground, but he was willing to trust his instincts. There was a town in the distance, an Earth Kingdom city, and it was to there he bent his steps.

His path joined a main road, well maintained by the local Earth Benders. It was dry and dusty, but smooth. As the afternoon waned, he could see the open gates of the town where a slow-moving line of farmers with carts and pack animals were exiting; the end of the market day.

Moving upstream against the flow of traffic, he came to a small fountain cut into the rock that filled a watering trough. Carters and farmers were watering their animals for the trip home. It was crowded, but Iroh needed water. He was pushed and pulled by the pack animals as he drew closer, sometimes nearly crushed between the tired beasts and their carts.

After he had washed and drunk, and while sidestepping a particularly noxious pile of droppings, his eye was caught by a well-rounded female figure coming through the gates. Her face was hidden by a broad brimmed hat, her hair covered by a dusty blue scarf, and she wore a non-descript tunic girded tightly to her waist. She carried two great bundles on a yoke balanced across her shoulders, and as she lifted her hands above her shoulders to steady her burden, the cloth of her tunic pulled tightly over an ample bosom.

Iroh sighed and smiled – there were few sights he found more pleasant than the female form in all its shapes and sizes, and he was particularly fond of abundant curves. He remembered the joy of nuzzling soft, sweet-smelling breasts, of hefting their weight in his hands, and sighed again. _Those days are past you now, old man,_ he mused.

He had only just begun to turn away when he saw the woman jostled by a farmer. The yoke swung about and she stumbled against a cabbage cart. It overturned, strewing cabbages under the feet of the animals.

"My cabbages!" a peddler shrieked.

An ostrich-horse reared back his head and shrieked, and the woman went down. _She will be trampled!_ Iroh thought, frantically pushing his way through the approaching animals. No one else seemed to have even noticed her fall.

**Author's Note:** The title is a translation of the Hindi greeting "Namaste", recognizing that the spark of the Divine in each of us recognizes itself in those around us.


	2. The Kindness of Strangers

**Ch 2**

In the space of a long drawn breath, Iroh reached her, hauling upon the bamboo yoke as she struggled to rise. The aging general half dragged, half carried the woman and her burden over a low wall beside the fountain, away from the shuffling hooves.

Breathing hard, he shucked his own pack and knelt before the woman he had pulled from danger. She raised her head, and Iroh found himself looking up into wide set eyes, thickly lashed and the cool gray-green of lichen on stone. Neither old nor young, her sun burned face was liberally sprinkled with freckles, the tip of her nose turned up, and laugh-lines crinkled around her eyes and mouth as she smiled her thanks.

"That could have been the end of me!" she said. Her voice was low and smoky, at odds with the merry roundness of her face. "How lucky that you saw me fall!"

"Are you hurt?" asked Iroh gently.

"Only bruised, I think," she replied, "and something stepped on my foot," she said, leaning down to take off her boot.

"Let me help you," said Iroh. "I promise," he added with a twinkling eye, "I will be gentle."

A dimple formed below her apple cheeks as she chuckled. "I'll bet you say that to all the girls!"

A feeling of warmth welled up from his belly and spread to his fingertips. He slipped the dusty boot from her foot and examined it carefully. He felt the bones with practiced hands, but nothing moved. The foot was little, broad, and high arched. _Even her toes are cute_, Iroh thought.

"Not broken," he said, slipping the boot back on, "but it wouldn't hurt to stay off it for a while."

He rose and helped the woman to her feet. Shouldering her yoke and hefting the pack to his right shoulder, he offered her his arm.

"Allow an old soldier the privilege of escorting you home," he said.

"You are very kind, sir," she said as she took his arm.

Limping slightly, she led the way to a shaded path Iroh had not noticed before. It rambled off along the rocky hillside, beneath scrubby pine that grew thicker and thicker as they climbed. They reached a rocky outcropping overlooking the river. Barely visible from the road below, it afforded a fine view of the town and the surrounding valley. The sun was setting to the west, where the little river flowed off to drown in the sea.

Beneath a rocky overhang Iroh saw a low, curtained archway, half-hidden by scrub pine and nearly blending in with the rock around it.

"I am Hou Tu," said the woman, turning to face the Dragon of the West. "Will you enter my home?"

Iroh bowed, his hands before him. "It would be an honor," he said.

He followed Hou Tu past the curtain of braided straw and wooden beads. The air was cool and even a little damp in the dark passageway. There was the smell of earth and rock, of green growth and damp decay, of cooking fire, smoked meat, fermenting grain, and damp wool. Bundles of herbs hung, drying, along the rough walls. The combination of scents washed over him like a wave, and Iroh was struck with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu – as if he had walked through that dark doorway before.

Hou Tu was silhouetted against a faint light ahead, and he could no longer detect a limp in her movements – in fact, she almost seemed to glide.

The passageway narrowed and curved, then dipped sharply as it passed a deep window in the rock. Red rays of sunset lit up the stones so that they seemed to be on fire. The scent of water grew stronger, and the increasing dampness caught and refracted the red-gold light. Hou Tu paused to take down an iron ember pot and a lantern from the ledge, and lit one from the other.

Broad steps led them further down and around a curve into a great cavern. The light from the tiny lantern caught, shimmering, on the shores of an underground lake, but was not strong enough to penetrate the darkness of the cavern – Iroh felt rather than saw its size. He was struck with the knowledge that this place was somehow not of this world. There was a challenge here. Change was coming. He followed.

**Author's Note:** Hou Tu is one version of the name of an early Chinese goddess of the earth and of fertility, literally translates as Queen Earth. She is associated also with the Mosos tribe's goddess Ge Mu, the Lady of the Mountain; with lions, and with the number seven.


	3. Water Flowing Underground

**Ch 3**

On the shore of the lake stood what looked like a small teahouse – a pavilion with a wood planked floor, low walls topped by broad, open windows, and a peaked roof. A narrow, stepped veranda surrounded it on all four sides. On one side of the hut, shelves held carved wooden boxes, non-distinct bundles, and earthenware jars. Iroh could see, through the open windows and doorway, a chain holding an iron cooking pot over a fire pit in the center of the hut.

A narrow bridge of cedar planks at the foot of the stairs crossed a meandering stream that fed the underground lake. It trickled down over the rocks that formed the stairway, filling shallow stone basins as it descended. Hou Tu paused to rinse her hands and face in one of the basins, and took the bundles from Iroh's arms.

Not a word had passed between them since they had entered Hou Tu's home. Now she faced Iroh and bowed.

"You have rendered me a service, and carried my burdens, and entered my home, where few men willingly go. All I offer you in return is a pot of tea, a hot meal, and shelter for the night. Will you accept my hospitality?" she asked.

Iroh bowed in return. "I would be very grateful," he said.

"Good," laughed Hou Tu, "then I shall put you to work!"

Iroh rinsed his hands and face in the basin and followed Hou Tu over the bridge, up a step onto the veranda, and up another through the low doorway. Hou Tu took off her straw hat and set her bundles in the corner. Next she pulled the dusty scarf from her head, releasing a stream of bronze and copper waves, sun-streaked with gold.

"Will you build up the fire, while I fill the kettle for tea?" she asked, turning to reach for a small iron kettle from the table.

Iroh stopped her with a light touch on her arm. The scent of her hair was of cedar and sandalwood, and he suddenly felt nervous, like a boy with his first woman.

"You have not asked me who I am," he said in a quiet voice.

She did not speak nor did she look up. Iroh found he very much wanted her to do both. "My name is Iroh, and I am of the Fire Nation," he paused. "A Fire Bender. I mean you no harm, but if you wish me to go, I will leave you in peace. You owe me no debt."

Hou Tu slowly reached up both her small, freckled peach hands – strong, calloused hands. She placed them on his face with the lightest of caresses, and raised her eyes to his. "I know who you are, Iroh, son of Ilah, Prince of the Fire Nation."


	4. Redemption Song

**Ch 4**

Iroh had the feeling that he had just stepped off a cliff. Her eyes were an unfathomable abyss, a portal to an unseen world. Iroh gasped, willing himself not to pull away. He felt himself drawn down into the green darkness, heavy with the burden of all the lives ended, all the grief, all the loss and the misery that lay at his doorstep. In that moment he saw the face of every child orphaned, every lover bereft, every mother and father buried alive by the death of their son. He was filled with the enormity of the guilt he bore, as a soldier, as a general, as a conqueror. The death of his own son – surely, this too was his doing. _Lu Ten would never have known war if his own father, grandfather and great-grandfather had not so gloried in waging it_.

Tears began to flow down his lined face, dropping into the hands of Hou Tu. He could bear it no more, and closed his eyes.

Hou Tu's hands did not move, but at last she spoke in a voice as low and dark as the earth itself. "There will always be redemption for those who truly seek it," she said.

Iroh forced himself to look again, and once again he felt himself falling. This time, trusting, he went willingly. As he reeled headlong into the jade shadows, a voice of power filled his spirit.

"_The first gift I offer you, Iroh, son of Azulon, grandson of Sozen, is the forgiveness that you seek." _

Iroh felt the weight lift from him, and his descent slowed and stopped. He took a deep breath, and a lightness filled his being. The years and the miles and the losses seemed to drop away, and he breathed deeply, fully, like one who has awoken from a long sleep.

Hou Tu drew her hands away from his face, wiping away his tears with a gesture as tender as a mother's. Iroh slid to his knees in reverence before her.

"Great One, this is a kindness beyond measure!"

"Do you know me now, Iroh?" she laughed, stroking a stray silver hair back from his forehead. "We have met before, in other times, other lives," she said.

As she touched him, images filled his mind; an ancient cook in his grandfather's kitchen, a crippled flute girl, a priestess in the Earth Kingdom shrine outside of Ba Sing Se where he had staggered that terrible night of Lu Ten's death.

There were other faces, too – he remembered the delicate, sloe-eyed healer who had tended him after his first Agni Kai; he was 17, the heir to the throne then, hot and haughty and steaming with the power of his first victory. _She made a man of me that day, forty years ago on the floor of the infirmary, and I never learned her name. _No one knew who she was, and for months he had dreamed of that sweetness, burning in the night. More there were, dark, distant memories, less distinct, of kindness, passion, cruelty, and awe.

Hou Tu turned away, filling the kettle from a water jug and setting it on a grate on the hearth. She poured water into the iron pot hanging from the chain, and lowered it over the fire pit. As if she had heard his thoughts, she laughed.

"I do not usually make a practice of taking the virginity of young boys, Iroh," and she giggled like a girl, "but you were more than ready, and I was delighted to be first," she said. "It is a great pleasure, to be taken with such, hhmmm, _urgency_."

Iroh rose silently, blushing, humbled and confused. Wonder, guilt, fear, relief, and remembered lust all vied for his mind's attention. He laid the wood beneath he kettle and the pot and called up fire beneath them. He lit the stone lamps that stood about the pavilion, and peered into the gradually lifting darkness.

The cave was large, but not interminable. He could count seven passageways leading off into darkness, and where the cave's floor sloped down, other streams flowed over the rocks into small pools, shimmering in the lantern light. Behind him, where the steps wound down the cavern wall, he could see the last blood-red rays of sunset from the rock window reflected on the walls.

Hou Tu twisted up her hair and secured it with a chopstick, then began selecting ingredients from her bundles and shelves. She set long strands of noodles to soak in a stone bowl, and began to pare and slice lotus root on a board. She neatly chopped a small cabbage, a thick, white daikon, some scallions and a few cloves of garlic, and then peeled and slivered a bit of ginger root. Into the iron pot went the vegetables with a handful of tiny dried fish, stirred with two long chopsticks linked together by a thong at one end. Hou Tu added salt and spices liberally from little clay jars on the hearth, looking for all the world like any simple housewife.

She wiped her hands on a cloth, set her long sticks in her sash like a sword, and began to make the tea. She opened and sniffed at a few ceramic jars.

"Ginseng for you, I think, for strength," she said, adding leaves and bits of chopped ginseng root to one small teapot, "with oolong, and a little ginger."

She opened another small jar and inhaled deeply. "And green for me," adding the tea to another pot and pouring them full from the small kettle.

On the other side of the fireplace was a broad, low sleeping pallet, piled with silk cushions and embroidered cloths. From the pile Hou Tu selected two flat cushions and placed them on either side of the low table.

"Will you take tea with me, Child of Fire?" she asked with a smile, indicating the table before her.

"It is not everyday I am served tea by a goddess", answered Iroh, "I fear I'm not dressed for such an honor," he added as he lowered himself to his place.

Hou Tu poured. "The spirits may take a mortal form for many reasons, General Iroh," she said. "or for no reason at all. I choose to reveal myself to you now, that you may know some of those reasons."

She continued, sipping her tea. "You have known great suffering in your life. The death of your wife, of your son, the loss of your throne, your high reputation," she said. "Now, the last link to your former life is gone. This young prince, your Zuko, whom you have loved and guided and guarded, has abandoned you. For the first time in your life, you are free - why do you choose to follow him?" she asked.

Iroh raised his tea and inhaled the heavenly steam. He tasted, letting the hot liquid spread over his tongue and felt the tang of the ginger as he swallowed. A tingling warmth spread throughout his limbs. It was exquisite.

"I love him," he answered simply. "He needs me."

"And?" asked Hou Tu.

"And… he is my hope."

"For what do you hope?"

"Peace, ultimately," said Iroh. "And yes, redemption, for myself _and_ for my people. We are not monsters," he sighed, "though we have behaved as such."

"That's lot to hang on one young man."

Iroh was silent. Hou Tu refilled the cups. "You have seen the Avatar," she said.

"Yes."

"And his companions," she said.

Iroh nodded.

"And have you not felt yourself drawn to them? As if you follow for a reason?" she asked.

Iroh bowed his head. "I have long felt that the capture of the Avatar would benefit neither my nephew nor my people," he admitted slowly. "Even my nephew feels it," he added, "I see him grow more conflicted, less sure of his goal, with each encounter."

"There is a time ahead of many choices, many opportunities, and not all of them fortuitous. You must choose wisely, move slowly, lead without leading, and teach without teaching," said Hou Tu. "You will do service to the Avatar and his company, though not in a way I can yet see."

"I begin to understand what you want of me, Great One," he nodded, "and it lightens my heart."

"Seek out chance encounters, talk to strangers. Trust to your instincts and play to your strengths – for you have many, my old friend." Hou Tu rose, and lifted the lid on the stew pot. "Keep good watch for signs I will send you, and your way will become clear." Steam lifted around her.

"Hmm. Time for the tea duck and smoked oysters," she said, sniffing.


	5. Filled With Fire

**Ch 5**

**WARNING MATURE CONTENT WARNING MATURE CONTENT WARNING**

Dinner was delicious. Hou Tu now seemed to him once again as any normal Earth Kingdom woman; chatting through the meal about tea and herbs, recipes and remedies, smiling almost shyly when their hands accidentally touched across the table. Her face was not beautiful, but charming in its animation; expressive and changing.

Iroh found himself having to work hard not to drop his eyes to the voluptuous curve of her breasts whenever she leaned forward. He sometimes caught a hint of cleavage where the robe crossed together, and he thought wistfully of how nice it would be to see more. When she rose at the end of the meal and leaned down to take away the bowls, the chance of a better view was his. _Breathtaking,_ he sighed.

Hou Tu caught his eye, smiling almost conspiratorially. "The lake is cool and refreshing after a warm day," she said. "Will you join me?"

Without waiting for an answer, Hou Tu stepped out of the firelight and down the veranda steps to the lake. In the flickering shadows he could see that she was shedding her robe, leggings and boots, and Iroh practically leapt to his feet to join her.

Tea with the goddess of the earth was an honor, but an invitation for skinny-dipping with a buxom redhead in a fire-lit cavern had an even greater appeal.

Iroh shed his dusty robe, boots and loincloth and followed Hou Tu, splashing, into the lake. It was cold – Iroh felt his nether parts retreating to the warmth of his body cavity, until he drew close enough to see Hou Tu. She was standing in water chest deep, and her breasts bobbed and floated. He could see the effect of cold water on her nipples, and his body came immediately to attention.

Without thought he held out his arms to her, and she drew closer. As he was about to pull her into his embrace she turned and flipped a neat little surface dive, deluging him with cold water and flashing him a glimpse of broad hips and pink muff as she went under.

With a roar he followed her, diving and splashing. In and out of the cold lake water they rolled and dove, like two children. She shrieked and spun away, laughing, every time his hands touched her skin, teasing and retreating, but the crafty old general had his strategy in mind – he slowly corralled her into a small cove, where one of the streams flowed over the rocks and dropped in a short fall to the lake's surface. Iroh cut off her escape route and managed to tangle his left hand in the curls at the nape of her neck as she tried to slip by.

He pulled her quickly against him and spun them both under the little waterfall. Sputtering, she wriggled in his arms, slippery as an eel, but he managed to hang on. Her skin was smooth against his, and Iroh backed her against the rocks and tilted her head back, one hand holding tightly to her hair and the other wrapped securely around her little waist.

He inhaled deeply – the sandalwood scent was warmer now, like incense burning in a temple. The feel of those incredible breasts against his chest was amazing – he growled low in his throat and kissed her, deep and hard, pressing his erection between them, hard against the soft flesh of her rounded belly. He throbbed as she returned the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders and lifting her body against his. Iroh's right hand slid down over the curve of her hip and grasped one soft, round cheek, grinding harder against her.

Hou Tu shifted her weight, opening her legs just a little further apart. Iroh slid his hand deeply through the cleft of her buttocks, seeking her warm, soft places. With his fingertips he toyed with her love bead, and she moaned and sank her teeth into his shoulder. Like spurs, her little sharp teeth drove him on as he sought, stroked, stretched…

When Hou Tu wrapped her legs around Iroh's hips, lifting and impaling herself on his blade, Iroh threw back his head and roared forth a single long breath of fire that soared to the roof of the cavern. The heat within her core was incredible, the contrast with the cold lake water sent him staggering.

"So – ahhh – hot!" he gasped.

Hou Tu nibbled up the side of his neck to his ear, biting hard on his lobe, and whispered breathlessly: "_Do you not know, oh Man, that the earth is filled with fire? That the waters lie in her arms, and the air adorns her like an open robe?"_

She began to move up and down, riding slowly and deliberately, gripping him with her knees. She grasped the overhanging rock above her, her body lifting in and out of the water as Iroh buried his face in her cool, soft breasts. His mouth sought her nipple and he pulled it between his lips, kneading the flesh around it with his hand.

Iroh fought to remain gentle, but it was a loosing battle. As need began to overpower him, he became more demanding. Hou Tu cried out and gasped as he suckled harder, and she began to move faster, more urgently. Churning the water around them into a froth, they grappled frantically, fighting for their release.

Hou Tu arched her back, her cries shrill and bird-like. Her nails raked the skin of Iroh's back and shoulders as she climaxed. He could hold back no longer, and pounded into her with all that remained of his considerable strength until crashing through like a wave on the shore.

"This," gasped Hou Tu, as she cradled his face against her breasts, "is the second gift I offer you, Iroh." She kissed his forehead, and sighed. "Joy – joy of your body and of your spirit."

They remained locked together for a long moment, their pulses racing, breathing hard. Hou Tu slowly released her grip and slid from him, and Iroh shivered as his relaxing penis emerged into the cold lake water. "A joy that is ending too soon," he sighed.

Hou Tu laughed against his chest. "You may not think so by the time the night has ended, General," she said, "This mortal form is sweet to me, and I intend to enjoy it thoroughly."

Iroh shivered a little, reminded of exactly whom he held so intimately. "You honor me, Great One. I hope I will not disappoint you," he said.

"You won't," said the Spirit of the Earth. "And, call me Tu Tu," she said, taking his hand as they waded to the water's edge.


	6. Hope

Ch 6 

Iroh gathered his discarded clothing as they walked back to the pavilion, but they neither of them dressed again that evening.

Far into the night, on the cushioned sleeping mat, on the smooth boards of the veranda, over the windowsill, in a steaming rock pool that Iroh heated with his breath, in every corner of the pavilion, they played endless lovers' games of pain and pleasure. Interspersed with steaming tea and delicacies from the kitchen of Hou Tu was lively talk of politics and art, music and beauty, the future and the past. They sang together; love songs, war songs, nursery rhymes and festival tunes. She laughed and clapped her hands for his display of fire bending tricks, making him feel like a boy again, showing off for the noblemen's daughters.

His heart was lighter than it had been in years, and his joy was only exceeded by his gratitude (and by what seemed to be limitless capacity). Never, even in his youth, had he managed more than two or three or, maybe at most four bouts of lovemaking without a good night's sleep and a hot bowl of noodles in the morning. Tonight, it seemed he had an endless capability to please.

Iroh slept at last as the first golden light showed through the passageway above the stairs. Rocked in the arms of the whispering earth, he dreamed.

_He flew on the back of a great bird under a million stars, through air that smelled of cedar and sandalwood. The earth spread out before him, and he could see the patterns in the continents, as if they had all once been one and had drifted apart, trailing islands and archipelagoes behind them. He reached out his hand and stirred the surface of the water, and the land changed, spinning, the masses catching and interlocking like pieces of a carved wooden puzzle box to form one whole. The wind rose and he held tightly to the bird as she flew higher, until all the world was just one great, blue-green gem shining in the starlight. A voice seemed to rise from the jewel like the ringing of a distant bell – "Here is the third gift I give you, Iroh son of Fire. A vision of all the world as it once was, and will someday be again. May it give you hope."_

Iroh awoke as the sun peaked some time the next day. He was sore in places that hadn't been sore in a long time, but oddly refreshed and alert. He was saddened, but not surprised, to find himself lying alone under the shade of a single tree in a green meadow beside a slow-moving river. How far he had come from the cavern and the lake, he did not know.

Iroh's pack was beside him, and he checked its contents. Inside, a handful of gifts that the Lady of the Earth had given him, in addition to so many, many more: a rice paper packet of steamed shrimp dumplings, cold pressed duck and smoked oysters; sliced raw daikon and lotus root, crunchy and refreshing, and a little earthenware jar of the ginseng tea.

There were the tracks of a single ostrich horse beside the water. Remains of a fire were still warm – Zuko had passed the night here, Iroh was sure. He was not far behind.

The old General sang as he walked – a soldier's song of women and wine – and enjoyed the beauty of the day.


	7. Zuko's Lesson Number One

**Epilogue **

**After The Chase/Battle Against Azula**

As Zuko un-wrapped the bandages from his uncle's shoulder to check the wound, his curiosity overcame him.

"Uncle, I wanted to ask you what happened to your back – were you attacked? There are scratches, and bruises, and it looks like, like, _teeth marks_ here, and here, and all over here," he said, examining his uncle's shoulder and neck.

Iroh laughed and blushed just a little. "Attacked? Uhhh, well, no – but I did enjoy a rather _vigorous_ encounter with an old friend," he said.

"Encounter? You look like someone…" His face registered shock.

"_Uncle IROH! Love bites! You have **HICKEYS**!"_ Zuko shrieked, as he fell backwards off his heels. "Aaaaaarrrrggh! How can you even…! We are fleeing for our lives, and you stop to _**get laid**_! I can't _believe_ this!"

"What?" said Iroh, innocently, "You think I'm too old? You think I am no longer desirable to women because I have a few gray hairs and my waist is not so slender?"

"But, Uncle…"

"I will have you know, Prince Zuko, that there are plenty of fine women out there, _plenty_, that appreciate an experienced man, a man who controls his strength and knows the secrets of giving a woman pleasure…"

Zuko clapped his hands to his ears. "I do NOT want to hear this!" he said.

"It wouldn't hurt you to hear a little of this!" thundered his Uncle. "It wouldn't hurt you to learn how to give yourself to a woman, if you ever hope to please one worth keeping," he said. "I happen to think '_getting laid' _would do you a world of good, Zuko!"

Zuko sat silently, his head in his hands, just out of Iroh's reach. "I haven't… I've never… there just wasn't any…" he mumbled.

"I know, nephew, I know," his uncle said, gently. "If things had been different, I would have taken you to the Jade Pavilion when you turned sixteen, as I did for my son, and seen to it that your training was put into the hands of professionals."

Zuko looked up, shocked. "You took Cousin Lu Ten to the Jade Pavilion?"

"Of course! Don't look so surprised, Prince Zuko," he said. "Do you think he, or you, could just be left on his own to… to _date_? At the Palace of the Fire Lord? Zuko, you grew up there, you know what it's like!" Iroh shuddered. "The intrigue, the plots, the secret alliances? Long before your exile, every minor nobleman with a daughter in his house was maneuvering to position her as your bride. Can you imagine the chaos a young man's urges would make of such a circumstance?"

Zuko was silent for a moment. "Well," he sighed at last. "It doesn't matter now, does it? There are no noble brides vying for my attention anymore, are there? None of them would look at me now, anyway," he added, his hand vaguely indicating his scar.

"No. There aren't. At least, none right now." Iroh thought for a moment, carefully selecting his words. _These matters are so delicate at this age,_ he thought.

"Zuko," he began. "Zuko, do you wait until the enemy is at your gate to learn the feel of fire or steel in your hand? Do you wait until the snow falls to gather in the grain?"

"Uncle, what does that have to do with…"

"With sex? I'm getting to that. Nephew, you are a fine young man. You are strong and smart, a brave leader and a powerful Fire Bender. A woman is attracted to power."

Zuko looked up and opened his mouth, then shut it again and looked down.

"And, though you may not think it, you are quite a good looking boy. Now wait," he said, holding up a hand, "true women do not find battle scars unattractive, Zuko. The wise ones know them for what they are – signs that you have put your body into peril for the sake of honor and to guard the ones you love. Your scar is only shameful to you because of the grief it represents. I was proud of you that day, Zuko." His voice broke a little. "I am still proud of you. Never forget that."

They sat silently for a while, each occupied with his thoughts. "Uncle, I'm sorry. I know you have always had only my best interests at heart." Zuko sighed. "There is so much that I know you can teach me, and so much that I know I need to learn. It's just that – it's hard for me to control my – I'm not very patient," he mumbled at last. "But I will try to be," he said humbly, turning and bowing low before the Dragon of the West.

"Prince Zuko," Iroh said, lifting him up and holding him to his heart. "Don't make a promise you can't keep," he smiled. "Patience is learned through long experience. Do not rush things."

"Now," he said, pouring the last of the teapot into his cup. "Madam Wu Kai always said to start with the basics. She would begin by telling a young man to always hold a woman to his weaker side, in your case your left. First, because by being there she will concentrate your energy and make it stronger. Second, because then your right hand is free to touch and caress her." He stopped to sip his tea, and Zuko held his breath.

"You start with her face, and then her shoulders, and then light as a feather over her breasts and circle down to her belly, just to touch, and quickly back again - Oh, and while you're doing that your left hand can catch hold of _her_ left hand in case she feels like a little struggle – oh, but not a real struggle, this is for making love to a willing woman, of course. An unwilling woman is another lesson altogether."

"Uncle!"

"Alright, alright, we'll stick to one thing at a time. When she is held against you, you then must catch her scent. Breathe her in, deeply."

Zuko looked as if he would speak again, and Iroh paused.

"The Water Tribe girl," Zuko said hesitantly, "the little Water Bender, she had a… she smelled like… like _snow_… and I mean, I wasn't…"

"No, no, that's it exactly," said Iroh excitedly. "I saw you leaning in to her, breathing her in, and I knew that you had caught her scent. Not that it was the best of times for that to happen, of course, but I couldn't fault your taste, and when a woman is bound like that, there's a certain enhancement…"

"Uncle," Zuko said, in a warning voice.

"Ah, but she is brave, that one, and a very powerful bender, too. A strong, brave, loyal woman like that, like she will grow to be, that's the kind of wife I would like for you, Prince Zuko. Not a vapid dress-up doll or some scheming little..."

"Uncle! We're not talking about finding a wife right now, we're talking about _sex_!"

"Oh. Right. Right. Sex. Of course. Now," he said, ticking off points on his fingers, "You are holding the woman, and breathing the woman, and touching the woman, now you have to taste her. Start with her lips, very, very gently. You can lick them, if you want to, but not like you're slobbering over a sugar cone at a festival, that will just make her think you're a pig."

"Taste her. Right. Then what, Uncle?"

"Not so fast, not so fast. We're still tasting. The lips are first, and then…"

"Then? What comes after lips?"

"Eyes, I think."

"You _taste_ her eyes?"

"Just kissing them. Eyelids are very sensitive. Then ears, and neck, and along the jaw."

"So, it's not just a straight path, then, you have to, uh, to meander around a little."

"Yes, that's right, that's a good word for it, meander, like a stream over the rocks. You've got the idea."

"Like a stream over rocks," Zuko repeated, and shifted uncomfortably.

"Now, remember, this is all about practice. Try these things out first on someone you like but doesn't make your heart leap, if you know what I mean – you want to know what you're doing before you make love to someone really important," said Iroh. "Unless someone really important chooses to make love to you first," he added, "In which case you'd better hope you're a fast learner."

Late into the evening, the first lesson continued. When his ever-surprising Uncle began to discuss the complexities of some very specific techniques, Zuko knew he was going to spend a very uncomfortable night. Iroh, however, slept with a smile on his face until he rose with the next morning's sun.

Finis 


End file.
